Jasper's Lyon
by The Lazy Medi-Wolf
Summary: A silly love story for my dearest Jasper. Ca/Es, Em/Ro, Ed/Al, Ja/OC rated to be on the safe side.


I own nothing accept Lyon. The song is from "The Perfect Man" and no, I'm not a Hilary Duff fan, but the song is one my sister played for me when my ex shattered my heart into a couple thousand shards

So this is a random silly blurb about my favorite vampire of them all JASPER!!! It's essentially what could have happened if Alice had never found him. The year is 2009. Hope you enjoy my utter randomness.

I slunk into the bar, dropping myself into a chair in the darkest corner of the joint. The room was warm, making the scent of the humans even more powerful, but that was not my reasoning for walking through the door. I was well-fed, my eyes bright as rubies, and the monster in my head was quiet.

No, instead I was here because of my sixth "sense". The whole damned town was oozing pain, hate, anger, lust, and greed. But as I'd walked past the small bar I'd felt a surprising emotional signiature. The emotions that belonged to a singular human in the dive tugged at my heart- love, kindness, joy, and a dash of loneliness.

I took in the place. There was a small stage in the center of the room, two feet above floor level and light with spotlights, and around it were many tables. To my surprise the tables were mostly full. The bar against the far wall was well stocked and the bartender seemed to know what he was doing.

My eyes were drawn to a young woman. Her hair glittered white gold in the bright lights as she walked toward the center of the room, her back to me. The long locks had a slight wave to them, seeming to fall down her back like a waterfall. I found my fingers itched slightly, and I could not understand why…

She leapt upon the stage, graceful as any of my own kind, and the room erupted with clapping and whooping. She turned slowly and curtsied to every corner of the room. When she faced me I caught a quick glimpse of a beautiful smile gracing wine-tinted lips. She raised her hand for silence and, to my surprise, it fell almost instantly.

The young woman raised her head, straightening her back and squaring her shoulders, the lights in the rest of the room dimmed, leaving the only illumination the spotlight that fell upon her. Music started up, pouring from the speakers imbedded in the celing above the stage.

"Drowning in tears that wont be me. I will soon be free from all these chains of all this pain inside" Her voice was beautiful and carried over the tables to me in crystal clarity. I felt her emotions shift from mild nervousness to sadness, loneliness, and determination. My gut twisted as I noted the "signature" of her emotions. It was her… the beautiful emotions. "And though I cry it wont be long till I regain the strength to know

I can go on. I will find my way through the heartbreak I will not give up on love

I believe" Her heart began to lighten, to fill me with an emotion I could not place. She spun playfully, showing it up for her crowd. And I could feel her excitement as an undercurrent to the strange emotion and the loneliness.

"I will learn to love again I will learn to trust. Once this heart can mend, I will learn to… Learn to love again" I laid my head gently against the wall, letting her emotions and voice wash over me. "All of these tears time will dry them I will survive them. And make it through into another day all of this pain," And I could feel her pain, her heart had been broken. And she felt the shadow of that pain now, as she sang. "Time will heal it there'll be a time sometime, I know, I won't feel it. I will live through life without you after the hurting is done." Her determination held my attention. She was human… bombarded by her amazingly powerful emotions… but still she held strong against her own heartbreak, determined to survive. And survive she had. Her voice drew out less loathsome emotions in the humans around her, wonder and appreciation were the predominant two. "I believe…

"I will learn to love again I will learn to trust. Once this heart can mend, I will learn to… Learn to love again. I will find someone who deserves my touch after all the hurt is through." She wrapped her arms around her middle and leaned back slightly, as if a phantom man held her lovingly. The emotion I couldn't identify was back, and stronger than ever. "I will be so over you I will not give up on love. I believe yeah…" She took a deep breath and turned to face my direction as she sang. I could not see her eyes for the shadows, but I saw the beautiful curve of her jaw and the sweep of her high, delicate cheeks.

"I will learn to love again I will learn to trust. Once this heart can mend, I will learn to… Learn to love again. Oh yeah yeah oh oh love again" As her voice slowly faded out I took her in. She was small, hardly over 5'- nothing compared to my 6'3"- and very delicate, even for a human. But there was a determined set to the way she held herself. Her skin was pale, but slightly sun-kissed, and her green tunic clung just so to her perfect curves. "Learn to, learn to…To love again." Her voice faded to nothingness just as I FINALLY named the emotion she made me feel. Hope.

So I came back every evening for three weeks. And every evening she sang. And every evening I sat in the far corner and let her emotions- her distinguishing joy and love, the loneliness that connected her to me, and her bright hope that made me believe in goodness- wash over me for those few hours.

Sometimes she sang sad songs, song that brought tears to the eyes of many in her crowd, sometimes she sang love songs, but always she sang of hope. She became the light in the darkness that was my existence. I began to unconsciously dress nicer, make myself look neater, more like a man and less like a street rat.

And as the weeks passed me I found myself wondering, wanting to speak with her, wanting to know something- anything- about the angel who gave me light. I didn't even know her name.

Exactly 21 days after I first heard her sing I let myself wander to the bar instead of my usual dark corner. Hoping for a chance to casually ask the barkeep her name.

Her voice rang out happily that night, her song was of love found, of happiness. It made interacting with the stranger easier than I had thought possible.

I was leaning backward on the bar, watching her, when I casually, naturally almost, leaned back to where I knew the barkeeper stood and asked, just loud enough to be heard, "She's got a lovely voice."

The barkeep laughed, "Yes, Lyon is one in a million." I blinked, surprised. Lyon… lyon meant "little lion"; I was unsure if it suited her, not knowing enough about her yet.

I intended to stop there but my traitorous mouth asked, "Lyon… doesn't that mean lion?"

The big man laughed again, "Yes, well Lyon sure has earned her name. That dame is never messed with because the men here known the consequences." I gave him an intrigued look, not hard as I was very interested. "One bloke thought he could take advantage of her, because… well you know." He said and I nodded, she was so tiny, so frail. "Well the idiot didn't realize that she's tougher than she looks. She walked away with a pair of bruises on her arms, the bloke had to be carried out." He smiled at the memory, "She broke his nose, half-crushed his windpipe, and cracked a few of his ribs." He paused, "Now I think about it she split the skin on her knuckles too, but that was it."

I turned back to the woman, my Lyon, and gazed at her with increased appreciation for her.

A week later I was unable to stop myself. When the bar closed I hung back, determined to speak with her. I hung in the shadows, aware what I did bordered on stalking, and waited. Thirty minutes after the door was locked she slid quietly out of the employee door. Beside her was the biggest damned German Shepard Dog I'd ever seen. His fur was black and he reached her hip. He walked slightly ahead of her, his right hip just touching her left.

I watched them, following them in the shadows, perplexed. No dog I'd ever seen acted like that… I took a deep, steadying breath, enjoying the sweet taste of her scent- a blend of roses and apples-, before walking up beside her as she waited at a cross walk.

"Hello," I said as pleasantly as possible, letting a hint of my southern drawl slip through.

She jumped slightly and turned to look at me. But instead of looking at my face she looked at my chest and neck. "Hello," she answered me hesitantly, a slight line forming between her brows in confusion. I felt her small ripple of fear and wariness.

I decided to pretend this was an accidental meeting, "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

I held my breath, hoping she would recognize me from the bar. Hoping, idiotically, that she had noticed me too. "Maybe, I don't know." She said coolly, her fingers curling into the dogs fur.

Her words were a blow to my chest but I continued on as though it were nothing, "I'm sure I've seen you before." I paused, looking her over carefully, "Hey, I know. Don't you sing at that bar a few blocks back?"

"Harry's? Yes, I sing there." She said in a dismissive way.

"You're very good," I said softly, meaning every word.

Had I not been very well fed the easy pooling of blood in her pale cheeks would have tempted me beyond belief. "Thank you," she whispered. The walk light turned green and the dog surged forward a hairs breath faster than his mistress. I paced beside them, keeping my eyes ahead of me to prevent her from becoming more nervous.

Her emotions settled down slowly as she became more comfortable with my presence. "Do you come to Harry's often?" she asked.

I smiled slightly, if only she knew. "Rather frequently, if my… work permits." Yes… my work. Removing the scumbag who roamed these streets.

She smiled slightly, "Do you enjoy your work?"

I fought back the idiotic grin, "Quite a bit," I said truthfully. To be honest I was pleased to not need to lie to her. "Is your only job singing at Harry's?"

She shook her head, "No, during the afternoons I work at a women's shelter."

She… she worked at a woman's shelter… good lord was she really so wonderful? Perhaps she really WAS an angel. "That's a difficult job," I said softly, "Hard on your emotions." And she had none of the bitterness I'd of thought she'd of gotten from working there.

"Someone has to do it. Besides…" she hesitated before continuing, "I want to help them. I try not to focus on the ones I can't save, reminding myself of my small victories instead. And when I feel really awful… I sing sad songs at Harry's."

She stopped suddenly, her fingers still in the dogs fur, "This is my stop. It was nice to meet you…"

"Jasper," I said with a soft smile, "My name is Jasper."

She offered me her free hand with a small smile. I was so estatic I didn't think about the cold of my skin when I took her small hand in mine. She jumped slightly at the temperature of my hand but held me firmly when I tried to pull away. Her hand burned in mine, making my skin tingle in an almost pleasant way.

She shook my hand, still smiling. "I'm Lyon. And you should get inside Jasper, it's freezing." She squeezed my hand once more and walked up to her building.

My hand was still tingling when I reached the small drainage ditch that was my home. Looking around I scowled. I needed a better home… but that would require money…

The next night I met Lyon at the same street corner (after following her in the shadows to ensure her safety, obviously). The dog was with her again. She heard me approach, I deliberately walked heavier than usual so as to not startle her again. "Jasper?" Her voice was a slight question, could she not see me in the darkness?

"Hello Lyon." I said pleasantly. She smiled.

"Are you going to walk me home again?" Her voice held a slight tease to it.

"Why yes ma'am I think I am." I let more of my drawl slip through and her smile brightened. Her joy made me smile back at her. "Unless your companion would prefer I don't."

She petted the dog's massive haunches, her features loving. "Gwain doesn't mind. He might even appreciate the help."

Gwain, huh? "A fan of King Arthur ledgends?" I couldn't hide the laughter from my voice but she took no offense.

"Very much so. Even if they all were chauvinistic pigs." The light turned green and we walked on.

"True," I admitted.

We walked in comfortable silence for a bloc before she asked quite suddenly, "What is it you do Jasper?"

I pondered this, not wanting to lie to her. Feeling ill at the thought of it really… "Well…" I said slowly, "I… I suppose you could say I hunt people who have done wrong."

Her brows pulled together again, giving her that slight line between her brows. "So… a bounty hunter?"

I smiled widely, and in that moment I could have kissed her. What a brilliant idea. "Yes, I'm a bounty hunter."

"That's a tough job." She said softly, "You'd need to be pretty tough to handle that."

I flashed her a cocky grin, but she was looking ahead. "No problems there," I said, adding the confidence to my voice.

She laughed as we drew up to her apartment building, "Well thank you Jasper." She had the heavy looking door open before she turned to look over her shoulder, "And Jasper?"

"Yes?" I said softly, wondering what she was thinking.

"Be careful." The door was swinging shut before I could articulate an answer, because the tenderness in her voice and the concern that I felt from her touched me as nothing ever had.

Three months later I had a fairly nice, well furnished apartment to call home. Every night I went to Harry's to listen to Lyon sing, I walked her home, and then I hunted. But all was not well, or so I feared. Lyon was always happy to see me, but she never looked me in the eye. She never commented on my changed appearance, she never appeared to see the slightly longing looks I gave her, hoping to spark a similar response in her.

At first I dismissed it as shyness and politeness- it being rude to ask someone about the sudden change in their appearance when one is not close. But now… now our relationship was different. We were friends, at least… I thought we were friends. She was my friend, and I was pretty sure she thought of me as her friend. But still she never looked me in the eye…

I "met" her at our usual spot. The night was busier than usual, it was the night of some big sports event. Lyon turned to my approaching footsteps and smiled. "Hello Jaz."

Yet another reason I considered us friends, she called me by a nickname of her creation, to tease me. I smiled back at her, annoyed and saddened by her refusal to meet my eyes. "Evening Lyon," my greeting came out slightly curt.

Her eyes immediately squinted up at me, this time looking closer to my face. "Is something wrong Jasper?"

"Not really," I answered dismissively, trying and failing to keep the mild hurt from my voice.

She stepped toward me, her hand out stretched. Her small, almost unbearable warm hand landed on my button-down clad chest and seared through the fabric. Her hand gently skimmed up my chest and cupped my cheek. She ignored my cold face, probably attributing it to the very low temperature outside- I loved winter. "Jasper are you okay? What's wrong?"

As her eyes searched mine a semi drove past, its high beams on. She did not flinch from the bright light, her eyes did not dialite. And I got my first good look at her eyes. They were a beautiful blue-grey, but they were clouded and unseeing.

Oh. Well… OH. That explained so much. I touched her cheek with my glove clad hand, "I just noticed," I said, my mouth speaking without my mind's permission, "You're blind."

She blushed and looked away, trying to move away. "Is that what is upsetting you?" Her voice was hurting and angry. But I could feel her emotions and there was no anger, only a deep sadness and betrayl.

I laughed aloud and held her close, "Not at all. Well… not really." She frowned slightly and I continued on in a rush. "I was annoyed that you never looked me in the face before." I let my leather clad fingers trace her cheek gently, wishing desperately that I could trace the lines without the glove. "But this explains it."

She blushed, half smiling. All pain and sadness gone. "You… you really didn't notice?" She was nervous, surprised and pleased all at once.

"No," I said, letting my smile leak into my voice a little, so she'd know I was smiling, "I never noticed. I was… too busy appreciating everything else about you to even notice."

Her blush deepened and then she hid her face in my chest, hugging me for the first time. Her nearness did not bother me. My hunger was sated and the monster in my mind was sleeping, glutted with the blood of a serial rapist. He had a flare for vengence I could appreciate. My chest, my arms and my thighs burned with the heat of her. Tingling and throbbing.

I admit, I'd held human women like this before, I'd even made love to them. But it was just a pre-dinner show to the monster, and a desperate attempt to feel anything good on my part. And Lyon… she burned like no other human woman ever had.

Gwain barked sharply, signaling that the light had changed. "Come on," I said softly, "Let's get you home before you catch cold." I led her across the cross walk and walked beside her to her apartment. I stepped away from her when we reached her apartment building.

"No," she said softly, "Please… do you want to come up?" Her embarrassment and nervousness broke my dead heart. She was afraid I'd say no… that I'd been lying and that she repulsed me.

I took her hand in my gloved on, savoring the burning heat, "Alright." She smiled brightly, her excitement and joy made even stronger by our touch. I reveled in them.

Her home was small, a single bedroom with about 900 square feet, but it suited her perfectly. The small apartment was impeccably neat, as it would need to be, and tastefully decorated with greens and browns. Gwain walked to the queen bed I could just see in her bedroom and leapt upon it, dropping happily into sleep.

"Did you decorate this?" I asked as she lead me into her small kitchen.

She nodded, smiling sadly. "I moved in when I was 17, just before I lost my sight. So I was still able to see when I decorated it." She stroked a framed picture lovingly, "I know this place so well I can still see it in my mind." She took the electric kettle and filled it with precision. "You can take off your coat and gloves. Would you like some tea?"

I shrugged out of my jacket and gloves, "Sure, that would be great." Not that I'd drink it, but it would help warm my hands, just in case she touched them.

She set down a steaming cup of tea in front of me, then sat beside me. The tea smelled sweet and not at all unpleasant. "I hope plum tea is alright," she said softly, "It's all I've got."

"It's wonderful," I answered honestly. It was wonderful to smell so I took a tentative sip. The taste was similar to the scent, but richer and more potent. My eyes widened in shock, I enjoyed it…

We talked of trivial things for over an hour, getting to know one another better. Well mostly I got to know her better, I was a little evasive so as to avoid the necessity of lying. When she yawned I knew it was time to let her sleep. I made my excuses and she accepted them, smiling all the while. Her contentedness made me resistant to leaving, even though I knew I should.

So when she called out, just as I stepped from the door, I was only all to happy to turn back around. "Jaz…"

"Yes?" I asked, leaning in her doorway.

"Can…" she paused and her nervousness suddenly overwhelmed me, "This may seem silly but… Can I see you?"

I blinked, surprised and not quite understanding. "Sure," I said slowly, "How?"

She laughed softly, "Just… trust me?" I smiled to her, knowing she couldn't see me, or appreciate the irony. Harmless little Lyon, my Lyon, was asking me, the murdering vampire, to trust her, when every second she spend with me required so much trust.

"Sure," I said again, stepping toward her.

She stepped closer to me, her hands settling gently on my chest. She spread her palms wide and ran them gently up my chest, across my shoulders, her finger tips ghosted up my throat. I bit back a groan as her hot hands brushed my bare skin. She was not at all repulsed, her hands steady and gentle.

I felt myself become horribly aroused, not a common occurrence for me, particularly not without my own intent. To my horror the monster was awakened by my arousal and peered through my eyes at Lyon. He purred in approval as her finger tips began to trace the features of my face. She traced my nose, my cheeks, my eyes… I closed my eyes to let her brush her warm fingers across the delicate skin there. Her fingertips gingerly traced my lips and I fought the urge to kiss them.

The monster in my head, to my utter surprise, growled in pleasure and contentment. Horrified by it's reaction I jerked back. Her immediate sadness and emotional turmoil made me regret my motion. "Sorry," I whispered. I searched desperately for a way to explain my actions… The monster in my mind growled at me, angry for having removed us from her touch.

"It's fine," she whispered, her increasing depression and hurt told me that her words were a lie.

I had to fix it. How… honestly, I thought with sudden clarity, hearing the words in my mother's kind voice from so long ago. _"Honesty is ALWAYS the best for getting you out of a bad situation."_ Well she'd been wrong, but… perhaps it was worth a shot here and now. I leaned toward her and whispered into her ear, "I just… you shouldn't touch me like that." I heard my own voice, surprised how husky and rough it sounded, "You might not like the consequences."

Her breath hitched. "Oh." With that I murmured my farewell and ran, before my raging arousal or the monster in my head could make me act even more rashly and jeopardize our friendship even more.

The next night it was like I hadn't freaked out, like I hadn't as good as told her I wanted her in one of the worst possible ways. She smiled when she heard my foot steps, she greeted me warmly, and we talked easily. But I admitted it to myself, even if we ignored it, I was hopelessly, irrovkeablely in love with her.

It took me until spring to understand the reactions of my monster to her. He was always awake when I saw her now, he seemed as… obsessed with her as I. But NEVER did he want her blood on our lips, never did he focus on the pulse of blood in the veins of her neck, or any where else for that matter.

The monster that was the dark part of my soul was at peace around her. He wanted nothing but her love, her tenderness. He… if it was at all possible… he loved her just as desperately as I did. And yet we both knew the idiocy and hopelessness of the situation. She would NEVER be ours.

The second weekend of spring she walked happily down the road, from Harry's. Never knowing that she was being followed. Sadly I had been called by a man I often worked with and I had not paid as close attention as I should have.

By the time I found her she was being pinned by a big man into a brick wall of an alley, just behind Harry's. Gwain was laying on his side, oozing foul smelling blood from what seemed to be a bullet wound. I did not even think before I had forcibly pulled the man from MY Lyon. I was snarling as I sank my teeth into the mans neck, ripping as I bit. But I did not swallow. Instead I threw him from me as Lyon's knees gave out. I caught her easily.

"Shhh, shhh, It's okay Lyon." I cradled her to my hard chest. "I've got you love." But her terror was not subsiding, and she did not relax in my hold. Instead she fought me, her terror rising.

"Jaz… gods Jazz!" her voice was high with fear but soft, hardly carrying. "Jazz what did you do? You're covered with blood. What did you DO?" And then the reality of my rescue hit me and my jaw locked in my anger at myself. Of coarse she was afraid of me. I released her and she stumbled away from me, tripped, and fell to her knees. "Gwain, Gwain!" She began to pat around and search for her beloved dog… I turned my eyes to the bloody black heap.

"To your left Lyon. He's directly to your left, but he's been shot. And it looks bad." Her choked sob accompanied a wave of heartbreak.

"Gwain… Gwain NO!" She felt around and when she found the dog he whined softly, licking feebly at her hand.

"If you call 911 now… you might be able to save him." I said softly, really looking at the dog who meant to much to her.

She stripped off her ruined shirt, exposing her perfectly bare torso- accept for a pale blue bra- to my greedy eyes. She pressed the shirt to Gwain's wound as soon as she located it. "I CAN'T call 911 Jaz." She said harsly, "You'll get into trouble."

I sucked in a surprised breath. Her terror hadn't subsided, how could she possibly care about a ma she was terrified of? "You… you're not…" I couldn't finish the sentence.

"Jasper," she said softly, her voice kind and… loving?... "Jasper… I'm going to need an honest explanation, but… no I'm not afraid of you. Not when I'm being rational. I trust you." She turned her blind eyes back to Gwain, "I'm afraid of losing Gwain, not of you."

I could have cried in relief if I could have formed tears. I looked about. "Well I didn't toss him too hard, and perhaps you could say he stumbled and fell a few times after Gwain bit him?" She shuddered, ahh, yea, she didn't know I'd bitten him. Oops. "And he shot Gawin?" She was nodding. I calmly took her phone and called 911. "I think a Woman was attacked just north of Harry's Bar on 101st." I said in my best, panicked voice, "I think I heard a gun shot!" I slid her phone away and gently touched her shoulder and sat with her until I could hear sirens. "I'll see you at your home." I murmured into her ear before kissing her cheek.

The sun had risen before Lyon came home, trapping me in her apartment building until nightfall. But when she came home I was too relieved to care. I swept her into my arms and held her firmly, but gently. "How's Gwain?" I asked, noting the lack of extreme depression I'd associate with Gwain's death.

She let out a shuddering breath as she clung to me desperately. "They thin he'll be okay. I dunno how I'll ever pay the vet bills but I told them that no price was too high for his life."

I stroked her hair in what I hoped was a soothing manner, "Don't worry about that," I told her gently, "I'll cover it." I sure had the money now that I'd taken her advice. She began to tense up, readying to argue but I shushed her, "If I'd gotten there sooner I could have prevented the whole issue." I let my self-loathing slip into my voice, "This is all my fault."

She pulled away from me and sighed. "Look… I want explanations, but I really need a shower, and I imagine you do too. Did you come straight here?" I had, and my clothing was ruined.

"Yes."

"Come on, I think I have pants that'll fit you." She lead me into the only room I hadn't been in, her bedroom, and dug around in the top drawer of her dresser. She pulled out, smiling triumphantly, a pair of silky looking men's P.J. pants. "Think these will work?" I grinned, amused.

"Yes, they should work." I said. She handed me the pants, collected her P.J.s and went into her small bathroom. Thirty minutes she exited, her hair dripping wet and about ten shades darker. She smelled strongly of apples and I grinned, approving. "I'll just be a minute." I told her as I entered the bathroom.

Ten minutes later I was showered, dry, and dressed in the pants she loaned me. I sat beside her on her couch and she leaned against my bare chest- my skin was still warm from the shower. "Time to start talkin' Jasper." She said softly.

I cringed, knowing that telling her the truth would mean the loss of her in my life. "This will sound crazy. And you may hate me once I get going. But… I need you to hear me out."

She turned to face me, her blind eyes seemingly scrutinizing my face. "I promise to listen to you're entire story." And she would, I knew she would. Because she was good and kind and loving.

But before I could begin… it might be my last chance. "I love you," I whispered, hoping she could hear my voice, just before I pressed my cold lips to her searing hot ones. She sucked in a breath, full of shock and surprise. But that melted into contentment and something warmer, something bright and shining like hope but even better. She kissed me back, her fingers tangling in my slightly damp curls.

The monster in my head rejoiced, as did the man in my heart. When she pulled away I let her, smiling as she pressed her forehead to my collarbone, breathing heavily. I found I too was breathing a little heavily. "I…" she hesitated slightly before continuing, "I love you too Jasper."

I found it difficult to think for a few moments, but I knew she deserved the truth. "I just wanted to tell you that before you decide you hate me." I whispered into her ear. I felt her lips twitch against my bare skin. "My name is Jasper Whitlock, and I was born in 1846, in Texas." I could feel her humor, thinking it a joke. "Lyon… Lyon I'm a vampire." She actually snorted with suppressed laughter, I frowned. "Lyon, listen to my heartbeat." She did, pressing her ear to my chest. After a moment I felt her growing shock, then fear, then understanding. I launched into my story, starting from my last few years as a human, going through my turning, Maria, Peter and Charlotte, and my live as a nomad.

By the end of my tale she was staring at me, wide eyed. "So let me get this straight." She said in her calmest voice, surprisingly she was actually very calm- and it had nothing to do with my influence. "You're a 145 year old vampire, and you've been through a shitty life, but you found me one night because of my… _emotions_… and you've been stalking me for the last few months."

I sighed, wishing there were an easier way, "Yes, basically."

"And you love me."

"Yes." She sighed and rested her head against the arm of the couch. My protective instinct kicked in, "I'll tell you what. I can't leave right now, not with the sun up. So you go to bed, I'll call in to your work and claim you're ill. You rest and once you've slept a little we'll talk." Her silence made me nervous so I continued, rambling slightly, "I swear I'm no danger to you Lyon. I'd NEVER hurt you."

She smiled slightly, her hand reached for my face so I guided it there, placing her hand on my cheek. "I know that Jasper." She said softly, "I trust you, remember?" And while she hadn't said as much I could already feel her growing acceptance and understanding. And I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was "the one" for me. If she ever left there would be no other for me. I would love her for the rest of my existence, even if I survived 100,000 years.

Fifteen Years later I still feel the same. Things have changed a bit, we met up with a "vegetarian" family of vampires and have been living with them ever since. We're currently in Denali, Alaska. The windows fly open, breaking my train of thought. My Lyon bounds in, her still blind eyes bright with her excitement.

"Come on Jazz, my love." She danced over to me, knowing where I was by her strange gift- her new "sight"-,and settled down beside me, smiling the smile I loved so much. "We're going to go hunting. Come with us?"

I laughed, fourteen years after her change and she still loved the hunt as though it were her first. "Anything for you my love." I watched as her face lit up like a sun. She took my hand in hers and together we ran out the balcony doors and into the night.

Sure, some things I miss like the heat of her skin, the sound of her heart- but they meant nothing when they were the price for eternity together. And surprisingly she felt the exact same- she never once looked back.

Lyon's clear, beautiful voice rose in song, joined by Alice, Rosaline, and Esme, as our new family met us on the snow covered back yard. With a laugh the assembled family sprang into motion- their joy and contentment rising to meet my own. From the balcony Tristan- Gwain's grandson- barked at our retreating figures, his nearly black fur glittering in the moonlight.


End file.
